You Miss 100 Percent of the Shots You Don't Drink
by HWGA
Summary: A collection (eventually) of randomly spaced oneshots involving Rachel Amber and Chloe Price. Not tied down to the faults of canon or even any too-specific points in time. Just snippets of their awesome relationship, between themselves or with other people. Mostly fluff, but hopefully the thought provoking kind. It certainly spent too much time in my head.
1. Mistress of Ink

For a long time in history, your mirror image was perceived to be a reflection of your soul. An ethereal being, something that defines you at your deepest foundations, exposed by the magical yet unpassable gateway to another world.

People know better, now. There is no gateway to the world of reflections, but the magic of the mirror is a constant that remained unchanged.

Some just see it better than others.

Rachel for one, was certainly feeling quite magical staring at her bathroom mirror. But that magic didn't come from any hidden secrets of the universe suddenly revealing themselves through the would-be gateway.

Her reflection simply wore a magic hat.

A large, transparent, wavy and inky, conical wizard hat, surrounded by hollow marker-stars and a thick half-moon up in the sky above. Drawn on the mirror in a characteristically sloppy manner, the hat had very obvious facial features – two dark pits for eyes, and one for the mouth, wide open, letting out an unfittingly unmagical speech bubble -

 ** _GRYFFIN-DORK_** _!_

… Who's talking. Rachel huffed a smile and shook her head.

There's only one person who would call someone a dork while fitting every known criteria themselves so perfectly. The same person that never parts with a black marker, which was clearly the murder weapon of this mirror.

Only… it didn't _really_ look like a murder scene. This time. Rachel actually kind of liked it, and it was a pretty obvious reminder of the pretty awesome last night when they binged the source together.

… And of another similar sounding thing that starts with b that they did afterwards.

… And of this morning when Chloe was _so_ dead and lazy that Rachel took pity and went to classes alone, leaving her in bed.

Looks like she paid the price for her mistake.

Heh.

But it can stay. For now.

.

.

There was one thing Rachel didn't always like about her room. It was on the sunny side of the house pretty much whenever the sun was in position to cause annoyances to her eyes, which was usually during study time, a.k.a. now. The obvious solution was the large purple curtain behind Rachel's desk, but then that just made everything dark. So, what the room lacked in sunlight was completed with what Chloe called the mood lighting, or what Rachel called normal lighting because Chloe was simply never not in the mood.

But, to be fair, the soft red tones of the always-covered lamp did make things look cozy in somewhat of an intimate way. And the burnt frankincense made them _feel_ this way too. It was kind of like another world here, very still and calm, with it's own personal atmosphere that was special and unmoving, but – stale, in comparison to the windy and the blindingly sunny outside that always brimmed with life.

Perhaps that's why Rachel tried to spend as little time here as possible. Not exactly running from it at every opportunity, but not needing it for much either. It was just a place to come back to – to sleep, to study, rest. A base of operations of sorts, a safe place to satisfy the needs, but not the wants – _those_ were anywhere but here.

Still, despite not having a too strong of an attachment to the atmosphere, Rachel treated it in her own appreciative way. Her backpack was set down gently by the desk. She took her plaid red shirt off, and didn't mean to throw it in the vague direction of not-a-window and forget about it forever like a certain someone would.

The same way everything has its place in here, shirts go to the closet where they belong, and neatly hang among their likes until they're used again.

And maybe this one would have made it to its rightful place too, if sliding others out of the way to get an empty hanger didn't stun Rachel with an unexpected sight.

Apparently, the 'room' was occupied.

Literally. By a man sitting on a toilet.

A frowning man in – mostly – a suit, with hairy legs and bald head, which Rachel could only guess was an inky depiction of Principal Wells. He was covering his prized excellence with a magazine and angrily yelling –

 ** _OCCUPIED!_**

Rachel just stared at that back wall of her closet for a few seconds, not sure if welcoming a new friend.

Wait. Is that… a playboy logo on his magazine?

"Oh, **_god_**."

Rachel just 180'd out of there and pressed her back against the open closet door outside.

Yes. She did just see that.

And somehow, she huffed a smile. And then, a little chuckle.

And then just simply softly laughed.

It wasn't long or intense, and eventually ceased, but the thoughts ran through the difference it made – Rachel felt joyful now. And appreciative. Chloe was always able to lift her mood even without being physically near her.

Of course, being physically near would make that even better, but her capability of making Rachel happy was immeasurable, and the ease at which she did it – undeniable.

She shook her head, smiling down endearingly.

It was just cute how Chloe always sort of thrust herself into Rachel's mind, making _extra_ sure it's never alone with itself – as if it could be anyway, anymore.

Their lives and minds were intertwined.

… But the shirt she was holding still needed to be in its proper place.

Rachel half turned towards the open closet, her shoulder still adjacent to the door. Her hand went in – without peeking in. She watched her elbow as it moved about.

The hand in the occupied room was almost like – oh, hello, excuse me. I just need a hanger. Sorry -yep. This one. Mhm.

Now just a moment as I'm gonna put this – yep. And I'll just leave it here. Not looking.

Sorry. Thanks. I'll leave you to your business now. Mhm.

A little wave before the door was carefully closed.

… Maaaybe the hat wasn't too wrong after all.

.

.

Enough dorking around though. There was some studying to do, and the idea that the sooner she's done with it the sooner she can get out of here was always a compelling motivator.

The textbooks were neatly laid out on the desk. The pens and rulers and whatnot – as well. Another lamp switched on, and Rachel was almost prepared.

A quick look through the study planner.

 **Geometry |** Ch.3, ex. 1-7

 **English |** The Scarlet Letter – finish!

 **Biology |** Pg. 78-88

…

But of course, there had to be that totally inconspicuous black marker writing at the end.

 **Athletics |** Knife dodging 101

" _Wow._ "

Rachel smirked a bit.

"Bold one, Price."

Almost like a challenge to up her own game – maybe thoughts for later.

But now she found herself grinning again. This particular little invasion came to be somewhat of a common occurrence to look forward to, thanks to the sharp wit of it all. Flipping through the previous entries, there was always one after pretty much whenever Chloe was here, which lately was only every few days.

 **Cooking |** 'Your first batch of Methamphetamine', ch. 1-3

…

 **Geometry |** Tactile measurement of curvature degrees on the female body

…

 **Driving (the fuck out of here) |** Extracurricular practice with Ms. Price

…

You know what? There was an awful lot of fresh ink today. Somebody took _too_ much of an advantage.

Rachel pulled out her phone from her pocket and tapped her way to Chloe's contact, for some texts.

[RACHEL: How is it that after whenever you come over I always discover something new in my own house?]

The reply took practically no time to arrive – not like Chloe was ever busy. And there was a pretty enjoyable sense of Rachel just being a priority to her, too, which Rachel rarely took for granted.

[CHLOE: what can i say]

[CHLOE: life is full of mystery]

[RACHEL: Like my room is full of mystery vandalism?]

[CHLOE: hey]

[CHLOE: i mean precisely]

[CHLOE: yknow sometimes art just appears and you're like woah it's there]

Rachel huffed another smile.

[RACHEL: Oh?]

[RACHEL: I thought art comes from artists.]

[RACHEL: I guess there's no one to reward for their work then.]

[CHLOE: reward?]

[RACHEL: Mhm.]

[CHLOE: what kind of reward?]

[RACHEL: I guess we'll never find out.]

[CHLOE: but hypothetically if i knew the artist you would make sure that they're rewarded]

[RACHEL: Correct.]

Chloe was clearly playing along – for now. There was a long-ish pause before Rachel broke it with another text.

[RACHEL: I might even give you a little something as a thanks for the information.]

At this point Rachel's smile was practically permanent on her face – all the way throughout another long pause that Chloe matched her with.

Eventually though -

[CHLOE: that sounds nice but my spider sense says not to trust you]

Rachel huffed out some amusement.

[RACHEL: You don't have a spider sense.]

[CHLOE: i do when i'm high]

[RACHEL: Then it's malfunctioning.]

[CHLOE: mmmmm i dont think so]

[RACHEL: Why is it saying that then?]

[RACHEL: Does it have something to hide?]

[CHLOE: are you suggesting something officer?]

[RACHEL: Oh I think I've solved the case.]

[RACHEL: Question is, are you gonna resist?]

[CHLOE: is this a trick question?]

[RACHEL: Maybe.]

There were a few moments of thought.

[CHLOE: fuck it]

[CHLOE: i did it. i chopped up the body in the garage. the money's in the basement. lock me up]

Rachel just couldn't help but smirk.

[RACHEL: No, you're gonna do community service.]

[CHLOE: what]

[CHLOE: this wasn't part of the deal. i wanna back out]

[RACHEL: No. You're gonna unvandalise my closet.]

[CHLOE: noooooooooooooooooooooo]

[RACHEL: Yes. Or else.]

[CHLOE: fine. i will improve it]

Improve it. She better.

[RACHEL: Good.]

[CHLOE: eventually]

Rachel just stared at the phone for a little bit, smiling. But that conversation was concluded, and there was some studying to do – she put her phone aside with a content sigh.

But in a few moments it buzzed again, with a new message. Of course Rachel had to check.

[CHLOE: so does you texting me mean that you're finally done with your school crap]

Rachel sighed again, but slightly.

[RACHEL: It's called education and no, I'm just starting.]

[CHLOE: groaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan]

[CHLOE: why do u have to spend so much time on this]

[CHLOE: just spend it on me i can teach u everything u need to know]

[CHLOE: like anatomy]

[CHLOE: wink wink nudge nudge]

[RACHEL: Subtle.]

[CHLOE: okay but really whats the point of not letting me be around you when you study if you're talking to me instead of studying anyway]

[CHLOE: kinda defeats the point if its supposed to help you focus]

[RACHEL: You know that might be because you're texting me without stopping.]

[CHLOE: not my fault]

[CHLOE: u knew what u signed up for when u texted me first]

Well. True. Kind of.

[CHLOE: so thats kind of on you]

Hm.

Rachel bit down on her newly widening grin.

[RACHEL: I just missed you.]

The app indicated Chloe typing immediately – as usual, but then the indication faded. It stayed that way for a few long seconds, then reappeared again, and faded.

And then there was a quick flash before the message arrived.

[CHLOE: you're so full of shit]

Rachel just burst into laughter. She was pretty sure Chloe did on the other side, too, at some point – maybe not as intense, but clearly it took her off guard, and Rachel knew more than anybody just how adorable that made her.

Picturing that was just the best thing.

Eventually, she texted again.

[RACHEL: And you love me for it.]

But the issue had to be addressed, too.

[RACHEL: Look, if this doesn't work I'll let you distract me all you want in person, okay? Just let me try and see if it does first.]

[RACHEL: I'll stop replying for like an hour. Call you when I'm done. 'kay?]

Chloe seemed to need a moment to process this, which was more or less expected anyway.

[CHLOE: sure]

[CHLOE: gonna be the longest hour of my life]

She didn't have to make Rachel endeared with the acknowledgement, but she did.

[RACHEL: You'll survive. Cya.]

The phone was finally put away for good and even on silent.

Just some focused studying left. The sooner she's done, the sooner she's out of here.


	2. Morning Mail

"Chloe! Breakfast!"

Groan.

There's a reason why the alarm wasn't set – to actually _sleep_ in the morning. How hard is that concept to grasp?

Ugh.

And even if there was a good reason to get up, like – the world ending, zombies rampaging through the streets, people crying out for help as their brains are getting eaten – whatever.

 _Nothing_ is better than this bed. It's so nice and _so_ perfect, Chloe didn't dare to even move since last night, when she crashed on top of its soft purple blanket and let go of every other care in the world.

Like wrapping herself in the said blanket, because even if there was the strength to do so, there was simply no point.

The summer provided the needed warmth. It was hot, it was bright – but not _too_ bright, thanks to Chloe stealing Rachel's idea of covering light sources up with random clothes. Or - the American flag, because why the fuck not?

She liked the atmosphere.

It sort of gave the room more pink-ish shades and made things feel softer and just cozy, when the light that shone through it landed on the wooden floor, the walls or random clothes laying around the room, spreading throughout the whole place and softly lighting it all up.

The idle quiet flopping sound the flag made when the lazy summer breeze made its way through that window down, to caress Chloe's skin below, was probably the most relaxing thing she could wake up to.

Apart from Rachel's loving embrace, but that breeze provided similar sensations.

It reminded Chloe of her in this morning delirium.

" _Chloe!_ Your breakfast is going to get cold!"

… Or tried to, through these annoying yells that absolutely no one cared about.

"I didn't spend my morning making it for you so you wouldn't eat it!"

Ugh. Great, nobody cares. Nobody even fucking asked for a breakfast.

"I'm leaving! Your breakfast's on the table – and you've got mail!"

Just shut –

Wait. Mail?

"What ma –"

 _Wham!_

Chloe's not even remotely loud question was interrupted by the loudly closing door. The sound was followed by some dangling of keys and the clicks of Joyce's heels against concrete, at which point Chloe just gave up on life.

She let out a lazy sigh now that there was no one to ask, which meant that it was a problem for the eventually-awake future Chloe, and the currently-dead Chloe could stay that way.

Or. Not.

Not if that bit of information wouldn't let her continue snoozing here in peace.

Mail. What mail.

Chloe eventually forced her eyes open with a frown.

Is this some sort of lame ass way to get her to look at the classifieds for a job?

… Nobody even looks for jobs like that anymore. This doesn't make sense.

Who the fuck would send her mail?

Wait.

Her eyes widened momentarily, only to be painfully forced shut by all the light around her.

By the simple process of elimination -

Who, at this day and age, that Chloe knows, that lives far enough away to send mail, would actually _willingly_ use this archaic system to communicate with her?

There's really only one person, but Chloe did _not_ like the thought.

Because just no.

No way.

Even _thinking_ that is stupid.

It's not her.

… But what if it is?

She let out a loud and annoyed groan, rolling over to her back and rubbing her eyes with her fists.

Why did mom even have to mention mail? Fuck.

There's no way she's going back to sleep now.

Fuck this.

Another forced sigh later Chloe strongly pushed herself up and off the bed, and pointedly dragged her pantsless legs straight out the door because fuck everything.

David was usually the first to leave, so if Joyce was already gone then this was a pretty safe venture.

And Chloe walked with purpose. Because it was probably just a matter of glancing at some stupid ad to confirm that it's nothing she should care about and simply going back to bed for more sleep. Her eyes weren't even more than half open for this - the faster she disappoints herself, the sooner they could close fully again.

Although that proved more complicated once Chloe got down to the ground floor and kind of just stopped.

Eggs. Bacon. Practically steaming hot. So beautiful. So… enticing.

Apparently Chloe was hungry now.

Sigh.

She was already up, so whatever. But – mail first.

… For some reason the thought was a little anxious.

She walked over to the table to find a few seemingly sorted stacks of it, yet that turned out to be an immediate annoyance, since her barely awake brain found little strength to look at each individual one and figure out which to even start with.

She was _that_ lazy, apparently, which probably was a surprise to no one.

Another sigh came out with a bit of irritation. Her body was awake enough to feel hungry, but not enough to stand here and rummage through this stuff – it was kind of giving up only a second in, wanting to be lazy back on the bed.

Maybe because she expected this to be absolutely effortless, because Joyce said it was _her_ mail on the table and not the whole house's – but.

Whatever. Chloe had a better idea. She quickly scanned the kitchen for a tray, then simply pushed all of that mail off the table onto it with one large swipe.

Not efficient, but she'd probably have to rummage through everything anyway – might as well do it on the bed, in a safe and more personal environment, and with close access emergency pot, just incase.

She also grabbed a fork and made some space for the breakfast plate before heading back upstairs with a full tray.

… Somehow the trip back felt even more anxious than the thoughts before, breakfast or not, yet this time she was aware, and didn't like it.

So she didn't hesitate now. Her tray was quickly set down on the bed, and the now-pile of mail found itself near her torso as she lay down on her side to rummage through it.

There was a thought somewhere in there, that… she wasn't sure she even wanted to do this. But she figured that she had to, or else she simply won't stop feeling that anxiety until she does.

So, anything that looked white and featureless received its proper attention - letter after letter, Chloe laid them out on the bed, with those addressed to David as far as possible, as to not entice her too much to simply trash them.

But there was nothing. No sign of anything that was addressed to Chloe.

At all.

Did Joyce just lie to her to get her off the bed?

Ugh. No.

Chloe decided to look through this stuff again, more carefully.

Each letter's address and recipient was inspected carefully, again. David or Joyce. Every time. Still, not a single one was addressed to Chloe.

Somehow that made her more angry and frustrated than she would have expected to be.

But there was still a bunch of advertisements – maybe it was just some kind of fancy letter that looked flashy enough to end up there at first glance, or simply got mixed in with them during her totally balanced runway walk back upstairs.

Chloe started to separate them within the tray and lay them out neatly there.

Every one of them was clearly an advertisement of something – carpet cleaning services, some new store a couple of streets away, even the Two Whales flyer ended up in here somehow – everything had some sort of announcement of how great was whatever it was trying to sell, and everything received zero interest because of that.

… Except for one, that stood out among all of this crap.

A relatively small, album photo sized card with a picture of a beach during a sunset, with some rocks somewhat resembling Arcadia's lighthouse hill and blue cursive letters – _Oregon Coast._

And on the backside – there it was. Chloe's name and address.

 _Miss you_ ❤❤

 _Wish you were here !_

 _Rach_

She smiled, but there wasn't more of a reaction, yet. Perhaps Chloe simply suspended it - her brain decided not to linger on this card too much, intentionally, despite the momentary nice feeling it provided.

Because she _still_ had to find what she was looking for, because it couldn't have been just this.

She held onto the card but put the hand down, and looked over the other advertisements again, studying them carefully for any signs of them being addressed to her, or having arrived from Seattle, or really anywhere outside Oregon at this point.

… But no such luck.

Her reading and re-reading completely ceased, and she simply looked down to everything she laid out in front of her, facing the reality again, perhaps for a bit too long.

There was… something small and empty slowly growing inside. Or not even growing – just being.

Because - yeah.

 _Of course_ there was no mail from …

Why did she even expect it?

Chloe sighed wearily, closing her eyes briefly, and letting her anxiety just go.

Why did she end up here again, exactly?

She's had years to get rid of this stupidity. The immediate hope for some stretch of fantasy that she very well knew will never happen, at the mention of something barely even related, like the fact that she's got some mail -

There's only disappointment at the end of that hope, there always was.

Yet she still always responded by hoping.

Stupid, useless idiot.

… An idiot that's never going to stop kicking herself because of being one now, too.

Ugh. _No._

Not this time.

Been there already – _so_ many times.

 _Fuck_ that.

This idiot has more in her reality than that.

She opened her eyes to face it once more – the other, better part of it, the one that was _there_.

This card…

Chloe looked over the backside again. Rachel's words were still there, in her beautiful handwriting.

Making her immediately smile. Telling her she's missed. Telling her she's wanted.

Even just, _existing._

This is the mail that should've mattered – that _matters._ Rachel was her girlfriend. Rachel was her _life,_ now. _She_ was the one who cared about her like no one else ever would. _She_ was the one who cared enough to send something like this, or even send something at all.

This should have been enough.

No. This _is_ enough.

The rest just doesn't matter, and it was little more than just some old feelings making themselves known.

Rachel wanted to make Chloe feel better. Feel good. Feel loved.

If there's anything Chloe ever learned, it was to accept this from her.

And that this was the most rewarding thing in the world.

The card was brought up closer as Chloe studied it – the words, the picture, the address, the cute little hearts Rachel drew.

She let her imagination run over them freely…

Trying to think of Rachel at some store, picking out an image that Chloe would like, sacrificing precious time in her ever busy life, then writing her words, and thinking of how nice of a surprise this would be…

The fantasy actually did make Chloe feel quite a lot better pretty quickly – the disappointment was practically gone, as it simply didn't matter in front of someone who cared that much, and the idea that Chloe of all people meant so much to someone.

And…

Wait.

There was even more.

She noticed from the card being so close – something very familiar enticed her to just bring it closer, even up to her lips as if to place a kiss, which she did without even thinking twice about it, like that was just a natural thing to do.

Which of course it was - something about the card just felt so very Rachel.

But she could only tell exactly _how_ Rachel after she finally inhaled through her nose.

 _Holy. Shit._

The smell – the sweet and calming hints of jasmine, that warm and delicate fragrance of her beauty and affection, the feeling that Chloe knew inside out -

Rachel's perfume.

She didn't realize just how impactful it could be because of just a week of being gone.

Immediately it incited the most vivid images of her, and filled Chloe with a strong sense of her very real presence – like she was right here, in the room with her, or even closer than that, like Chloe was just breathing _her_.

The smell was like some kind of drug…

But it could easily be better.

Chloe's eyes widened slightly at the thought.

Why didn't she think of this before?

She had … a _brilliant_ idea. The tools to make this perfect were _right there._

Whatever laziness and drowsiness was there before was simply gone right now – Chloe got up from her bed and immediately bounded for her closet.

Straight to Rachel's section, because of course she had one here now.

There were some jeans and shirts among some other things, but Chloe didn't pick anything out for looks – it was enough that they were simply Rachel's.

Her ripped jeans. Her plaid shirt.

They fit Chloe pretty perfectly, and soon she was back on the bed again, even putting her mostly forgotten breakfast tray some distance away, as not to interrupt this.

This was… even exciting, now, but Chloe tried to level out a bit and not to rush this, because this isn't something she should rush – this would be perfect.

She laid back and brought the card up to her lips again, lingering a bit instead of breathing, as if savoring the moment of anticipation before meeting her girlfriend again…

And eventually, her nose gently inhaled the perfume once more, and now, it wasn't just the card that overwhelmed her.

It was her clothes, too. Their smell, their _feel_ , she was surrounded by it - _by Rachel_. By her love, by her _presence_ , like her beautiful caring soul was gently wrapping its ethereal arms around Chloe's body…

The sense was like some kind of aura – a piece of Rachel's, enveloping Chloe, surrounding her completely from all sides, like a warm blanket that made her feel safer than anything else in the world could.

That made her feel at home.

Nothing else mattered at all.

Chloe closed her eyes, hugging the card against her chest, and gently brushing her cheek against the collar of Rachel's shirt.

It was so easy to imagine her - Rachel was actually here, in front of her, and Chloe's arms reached out around her, and hugged her close like this card, and she buried her head in her blond hair, her neck, feeling the warmth of her body and inhaling this sweet delicate smell.

And Rachel's arms snuck behind Chloe in turn, holding her, tugging her in, protecting her, snuggling their bodies together, and never letting go.

And Rachel placed a kiss on top of Chloe's head, and Chloe could almost _feel_ her weight on top of her as they just cuddled like this for the rest of the morning, not a care in the world, just resting in each other's arms, because nothing else mattered other than them, to each other.

Admitting that Chloe missed her back was an understatement.

Perhaps a drive was in order after all – maybe a surprise one?

That was a nice thought, among all of these fantasies.

It kind of even made Chloe huff a little smirk, eventually, just because it kept returning in the cutest of ways.

Rachel was like, not even close to 2 hours of driving upstate, in Seaside. She could have texted, called, skyped, and literally just ordered her to come over – instead, she sends a _postcard_.

What an _absolute_ dork.

 _God_ was Chloe happy.

But thinking of contact prompted a quick and really strong realization – that the thing Chloe wanted _immediately_ was to hear her voice.

... What time was it?

Something around whenever mom goes to work, a.k.a. early as fuck.

But without a Chloe to keep Rachel in bed for the whole morning, she should be up now.

Probably.

Tiny groan.

It was technically a vacation – a family vacation meant to mend the ties and all that, however unlikely that was to happen, but a _vacation_ nonetheless.

So as great as it is to be woken up by a girlfriend that was thinking about you, being woken up period sucks, and Chloe definitely didn't want to cause Rachel even that little bit of discomfort, especially in a morning like this.

So her options were limited, and the first one that came to mind was somewhat of a compromise, but meant that she had to get off the bed to find her phone.

For once, that wasn't a terrible tragedy – being actively aware of wearing Rachel's clothes throughout the whole thing was something she loved the hell out of, because she made all kinds of movements to remind herself of it. Little twists of her wrists here and there, or how one came up all the way up to her neck to rub at it gently, just to feel the fabric of Rachel's shirt with her skin and catch the hints of her beautiful smell. Both arms even came around her stomach to hug at herself as Chloe lingered in front of the mirror, imagining Rachel doing that from behind her, and resting her chin on her shoulder, as she'd done before countless times.

All of that made the search a little longer, but it was as if Rachel was with her for the journey too, and that was just the best thing.

Still, it _was_ a journey, to find the right pocket in the right jeans in the right pile of jeans in the most untidy room in the world. Rachel probably would have made a funny comment about it, and Chloe would have rolled her eyes, coming up with some intricate way to blame Rachel for the fact that Chloe was high last night and didn't remember which jeans she was wearing.

Thankfully, the search wasn't long enough to get frustrating, and eventually the mattress squeaked again, with Chloe back on her side on a soft pillow with the phone in her hand.

Staring at the lockscreen with Rachel's smile for like a whole damn minute smiling like a total idiot herself before becoming aware and shaking her head out of it.

There were still options, but none of them matched her true desire - she felt like she wanted to Do Something, like something big and just as amazing to repay Rachel, something that takes effort that Rachel truly deserves, to somehow return all of this overwhelming affection she incited in Chloe.

There was an enormous amount of it, and man if only Rachel was here she'd be in for such a ride...

But obviously she wasn't, regrettably.

And apart from jumping into the truck and driving over, which, as tempting as it was, would break an important boundary they agreed to maintain for this vacation, all she could realistically offer now was just some cheeky texts.

So, that. At least it's not nothing.

[CHLOE: so]

[CHLOE: a postcard]

Chloe's mind always had no struggle coming up with something unproductively playful and unserious.

[CHLOE: did your parents take you upstate or to last century]

She smiled a little and closed her eyes, letting her thoughts return to more pleasant fantasies, now that Rachel received an open invitation to a conversation.

A few little phone buzzes shouldn't wake her girlfriend up, and it would be just fine if she doesn't, since the thought of Rachel cutely sleeping in some comfy bed was enough to keep Chloe company until she gets out of it.

Yet, Chloe's phone buzzed out a notification not longer than a minute later, and she couldn't be more happy to receive such an early response.

[RACHEL: Well you're awake at what seems like morning so some time travel must be going on.]

[RACHEL: Spill.]

Chloe smirked at that in the most endeared of ways, and took little to no time to reply.

[CHLOE: a carrier pigeon smashed into my window and died]

[CHLOE: was pretty loud]

Something to make Rachel smile.

[CHLOE: i rushed over and it gave me this postcard]

[CHLOE: whispering its last words in a dying breath]

[CHLOE: your girlfriend is a dork]

[CHLOE: it didn't suffer]

[RACHEL: Wow.]

[RACHEL: It must have gotten disoriented in your pot smokescreen.]

[RACHEL: Poor bird.]

Chloe smirked.

[CHLOE: yep]

[CHLOE: so]

[CHLOE: it's got a smell]

[CHLOE: and you totally stole the idea from one of your stupid romantic books]

[RACHEL: Well.]

[RACHEL: Maybe.]

[RACHEL: But to be fair, not all of us have been granted your irresistible charm and innate creativity.]

[RACHEL: Some have to learn it from somewhere.]

Chloe could practically _hear_ the playful flirty tone that Rachel would've said this with. And despite her grin growing, she rolled her eyes. The pedestalizing was never anything but corny.

Yet, it was something Chloe learned to like and love, simply because the pedestal was Rachel's – to her, Chloe always _genuinely_ deserved to be on it, and the countless amounts of reassurances of the fact kept even the possibility of doubting that far away from anything Chloe would think about.

So it felt pretty good.

She stared at it with her stupid smile for a little while…

… perhaps a little too long, because the phone eventually indicated that Rachel started typing again.

[RACHEL: So, thanks for the postcard Rachel.]

[RACHEL: Aw, no problem Chloe, you know I always think about you.]

Chloe rolled her eyes so hard.

[RACHEL: Yeah and this was such a cool surprise it totally made my morning. You're an amazing girlfriend.]

[RACHEL: Thanks, I'm just so happy to have made you happy.]

Reading this playfully obnoxious yet entirely deserved callout turned Chloe's eyeroll into a mix of a stupid grin and chuckle as the indicator showed that Rachel _still_ continued typing -

" _Okay_ , shut up. I get it."

Chloe gingerly started a response herself, which in turn made Rachel's typing indicator go away, but then she suddenly just stopped.

Better idea.

She tapped her way to her contact and placed the phone against her ear.

…

Beep.

Some ambient sounds came from the background.

"Rachel?"

" _Chloe_."

The response came out in a playfully expectant manner, with Rachel's characteristic bubbly morning spirit that was impossibly endearing.

And of course Chloe was more than happy to hear it, but there was a more important thing contributing much more to that happiness.

The fact that she could very clearly picture just how much Rachel was smiling on the other end. Just by knowing exactly in what tiny and subtle ways her voice and intonation changes when she does, because it's just so familiar and something that she's heard so many times that all it takes now is one single word to draw a whole picture.

Imagining her beautiful smile immediately reignited the desire to repay her with all of this morning's affection at once. And she knew exactly how.

" _I_ _love_ _you_."

Her voice was as loving and earnest and appreciative as it could possibly get.

She didn't even need the sound of Rachel's happy sigh to tell that her smile turned into a happy gentle smirk, and she was all too familiar with how it felt to -

"I love you too."

Yep. Hearing her gentle voice say those words felt like the best thing in the world.

But Chloe wasn't done, and battled her stupid grinning with words.

"… Seriously. You're the _best_ girlfriend in the world. I miss you and I love you so, _so much,_ like - I wanna kiss the _phone_ just because your voice is coming out of it -"

She inhaled to continue but as she couldn't find the words – a gentle laugh came from the other side. Rachel certainly didn't seem to expect _that_ much of affection, but of course it was nothing but welcome, as ever.

There was something breathless about that laugh and her following words.

"Don't hit the 'end call' button when you do it."

Chloe let out a gentle chuckle herself, simply enjoying the matching sounds of happiness coming from her phone until they formed more words – flirtatious ones.

"… Unless you wanna get on the laptop."

"Oh –"

Chloe's eyes lit up.

"You're still in your room, aren't you?"

Of course Rachel was still there, where else would she be? That means there's no need to wait until she's back in the evening like usual, because Chloe didn't sleep 'till afternoon today.

So to _see_ her girlfriend right now was a million dollar idea.

"-Get your _ass_ online then, _right now._ I'll race you to the laptop."

If there were any words at the end of the responding chuckle Chloe willfully ignored them by ending the call before they came, and practically rushing over to her desk.

The laptop was booted up quickly, and it took maybe an extra couple of seconds before Rachel's online indicator went green by which point Chloe's cursor was long ready to attack the video call button.

And undoubtedly, the video immediately appeared – Rachel's happy smile, but really close. She was apparently still in her large hotel bed, and lying on her stomach. Her head was tilted slightly to the side and chin and cheek supported by her hand and elbow, and feet were playfully dangling in the air in the background.

She was still in her nightshirt and had her cutely messy post-sleep hair that only Chloe was usually allowed to see because she woke up right next to it. And also her zero-makeup face, which still looked too damn beautiful without it.

Her free hand made a little lively wave, a little flirty.

"Hey, early bird."

There was maybe a glimpse of surprise in her eyes somewhere in that sea of smiles.

"Hey yourself."

Upon seeing her, for a small moment, Chloe felt content and satisfied. Relieved, almost, because for once in a long while she got the presence of her girlfriend exactly when she wanted it. Even if it was her e-presence - it was still much more meaningful than no presence at all. She could look in her eyes, smile back and simply melt… but she didn't want to simply melt.

Her smile widened way too quickly - she couldn't just contain all the affection she built up this morning.

It needed to be channeled into her.

"You're still as beautiful as I remember."

Rachel smirked a bit.

" _I'd hope so_. We last skyped like what, two days ago?"

Her finger kind of started playing with a strand of hair, as Rachel hinted at the screen a tiny bit, her tone turning juuust a little flirty.

"You're looking pretty good yourself. A little change of wardrobe?"

Chloe raised her eyebrow a little, but then – yeah, duh. Rachel's clothes. She huffed a smirk.

"Yeah. Did some _wardrobbery_ , I guess."

Rachel groaned with a little eyeroll, which was of course smirkworthy to Chloe, because it's the best kind of reaction to a bad pun.

And of course the smirk almost sounded proud.

There was a small pause between the two, where each set of eyes just lingered on some part of each other and enjoyed it.

For Chloe, it was the finger Rachel idly twirled around a lock of hair. It was so cute, and kinda sexy.

Rachel's, well, she kinda seemed to like the clothes, since her eyes were kind of on her neck but just not quite. Chloe's became aware of where Rachel was looking pretty quickly – the collar of her shirt – and followed there.

And then she kind of pulled it up, as if getting comfier in it, and took one end up her lips for a small kiss and a little inhale, making a little show for her.

Her voice was a bit dreamy, so easily made so by the sensation.

"They smell of you."

To that Rachel's smile widened very contently - like she was dreamy too, but not in her usual romantic way. It was as if her liveliness was calming down, because she was where she wanted to be, and didn't need to go anywhere or do anything.

It showed through the way she repositioned - instead of twirling a lock of hair, she crossed her arms below and pleasantly nestled into her elbow, as if she was going to lay here for a while, to both watch and listen, instead of following up on the flirts – no rush.

It did look like her eyes begged a little to hear more Chloe's voice.

So Chloe mirrored the notion, getting comfier by leaning onto the desk a bit and supporting her head with her arm.

Her free hand came up with the postcard to present, but of course briefly went up to her nose, where she closed her eyes with another small inhale before putting it down.

"It's amazing. It's like … I'm breathing in your neck."

She opened her eyes to find Rachel's staring back with a wide smile.

"Just breathing?"

Chloe huffed her own little smirk.

"I get the urge to kiss it but then I remember it's not there. Which is a lil' weird."

Rachel noted with a little amused "Heh."

"… What else do you get the urge to do?"

She slightly bit the side of her lip after asking that, despite remaining pretty relaxed otherwise.

Chloe though made the most smug grin she could muster, practically bouncing on her words -

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know, _Ms_. _Awfully_ _Direct_ _Today_?"

It was a little unusual. But not in a bad way – Chloe definitely liked the unsubtlety however rare it was.

Rachel's voice became playfully provocative.

" _I_ _would_."

She shrugged a bit to emphasize -

"So what."

'So what' is a compelling enough argument, honestly. It's not like Chloe even needed one to get sexy when her girlfriend wanted her to.

But she still found the bluntness seriously amusing, and couldn't help to be even more playful about it, even if slightly at her own expense, shrugging with a stupid mocking grin.

"Nothin'."

Rachel rolled her eyes a bit, lightheartedly but still.

"It's been over a week and it's the first time we're skyping when I'm not too tired to be up for it."

Rachel didn't sound insistent – just explainy, which was again unusual. She would have normally teased back, but instead she just went for the truth.

Chloe's voice evened out a bit in response.

"That's true."

It still wasn't like she needed convincing or anything, anyway.

Well… maybe a little. It's not often that Rachel is the one asking.

"Just… y'know."

Tiny teasing smirk.

"Makes me wanna play a lil' hard to get is all."

Her voice got a bit bouncy as well.

"It's not every day that Rachel Amber, _my_ girlfriend _,_ thirsts for _moi_."

Rachel rolled her eyes so hard that Chloe wondered if they started hurting – she even made a little tilt back and forth just to emphasize the overly dramatic notion, keeping a complete poker face otherwise and obviously just being silly.

It gave Chloe a small chuckle -

"And now you feel my constant struggle."

" _What_?"

The eyes swiftly got back in place as Rachel's voice dipped into higher pitch in her continuously playful manner, faking some offense this time.

"I'm _never_ playing hard to get."

Chloe scoffed slightly.

"Not _playing_. You just are."

Rachel's eyebrows went up a little with a small surprised blink. She gave her a stare and a little tip forward – playful demeanor, but insistently conveying 'Explain' on the verge of taking fake offense again.

It was all lighthearted of course, but Chloe evened out her tone a little bit to elaborate.

"Y'know. With all the stuff you do and places that you gotta be."

"Mm."

That relaxed Rachel's expression, to something more genuine and matching Chloe's shift away from full playfulness – something still amused but more sympathetic. She shrugged a tiny bit.

"Yeah. I guess."

And it just felt nice for Chloe's feelings to be understood and recognized, even if they came in such a playful and passing lighthearted form. She didn't need to have a full proper conversation about this stuff exactly because of these little moments, and they were more appreciated than Rachel probably realized.

After another second, Chloe noticed the too-familiar hints of a forming smirk on Rachel's face, which prompted a realization that this is normally where she would tease her about having responsibilities and a school to go to, unlike her, that justified everything.

So to avoid groaning, the topic had to be changed, and the new one followed somewhat logically. Rachel had a good reason to be unavailable now as well, but it was something that they haven't discussed in a while.

"Speaking of which. How's it going with your parents?"

And Rachel's smirk didn't quite finish forming thanks to that. She hummed evenly, leaving the emotion behind it relatively ambiguous, even if still light.

"You know. The same."

Which was slightly surprising and a tiny bit concerning – Chloe raised up very slightly from her otherwise completely settled in posture.

"The same? What… nothing's changed in a week of bonding?"

Rachel looked at Chloe plainly as if processing the question, and then inhaled slowly and released a sigh, apparently taking a moment to accept that this is what they would be talking about now.

"I mean. Not really."

Chloe was proficient enough in Rachelspeak to know that even if she sounds like she doesn't want to talk sometimes, she usually actually does. It just takes her a moment open up again, because Rachel has a lot to open.

She simply gave her the needed time, watching her expression even out completely.

And this was the first time Rachel's eyes properly traveled away from the screen since they started the call. She let her previously rocking legs down behind her to rest, pretty much ceasing her liveliness completely.

"… I guess it's kind of easier to be more friendly without pretending?"

Like answering with a question was supposed to satisfy the initial one. Both of them realized it didn't. So Chloe just gave her time to articulate more.

"But…"

She reburied her chin a bit in her elbow for more comfort, leaving her eyes somewhere lower.

"I dunno. They still keep expecting that everything will just reset one day and go back to how it was. Which is just…"

She shrugged slightly, like she doesn't know.

"… impossible."

"And it's hard to blame them for being hopeful."

Chloe kind of knew where this was going.

Rachel's eyes went back up to her.

"Yeah."

Another few moments to think as they drifted off again.

"I just… I don't think they realize that there's always going to be a gap between us that they cannot mend."

She delivered that kind of emotionlessly, but the sigh that followed had a hint of sadness.

"And I wish they did. It… hurts to see that they don't, sometimes."

"Yeah…"

Something Chloe could easily relate to.

"My mom still won't give up trying to fix things after all this time. It sucks to see her put in so much effort while I know how ultimately pointless it is."

Rachel's eyes went up to her again.

"Yeah. And if you try to tell them that, they're only going to think that they aren't good enough yet and need to try _even more_."

Chloe scoffed a little bit.

"And then you end up with a nazi mustache policing your thoughts and making the gap between you even wider."

Rachel couldn't help but automatically return a tiny half-smile.

"Yeah."

The smile faded though.

"Or in my case, a shrink. They keep suggesting family counseling. Which is just…"

"Ugh."

Again her eyes flicked right up to Chloe's.

"Exactly."

Pause. And then she made a little appreciative smile.

Chloe returned it.

It just felt nice to be there for Rachel when she needed it, to understand and recognize her feelings, especially when they came in such a sober and elaborate form.

They smiled at each other for a little bit, not using more words to communicate anything, because they just didn't seem to need them.

But Rachel sighed slightly through her nose, eventually, which read like a little bit of frustration to Chloe, which probably meant that there was something to vent and vocalize on top of what was said.

"Like…"

Her voice sounded just a tad more lively now, matching the change in position – she pushed some hair behind her ear and stacked her fists in front of the laptop, and brought her chin up to rest it on them.

"I'm not interested in hearing more apologizing from them or listening to some dude preach about finding some magic compromise. I don't… _care._ "

She emphasized the word with a vague shrug.

"No matter what their reasons were or what mine are. We are where we are. So just ... either finally accept some distance, or just leave me alone altogether."

Chloe let out a weary sigh herself.

"Rachel…"

"I know. I would prefer the former too."

Chloe had more to insist on, but they had that conversation before, so she knew she wouldn't be saying anything new. And there would be no point in repeating, since Rachel listened anyway. She knew. Chloe just gave her a slow nod.

"As long as you don't want them completely gone from your life."

Though Rachel, surprisingly, visibly hesitated in response.

"… I dunno."

She made a thoughtful pause.

"I mean, I'm not angry like last year or anything, but. If this trip doesn't change things…"

She shrugged a bit.

"I guess I'd have to make a change myself."

Chloe found that both confusing and somewhat concerning.

"… What does that mean?"

Rachel shrugged again, pursing her lips this time, as if emphasizing more on the fact that she didn't know.

Or maybe that she didn't know _for sure,_ which is what Chloe picked up from the gesture and the fact that Rachel even mentioned anything. It had to mean that Rachel definitely has something on her mind, and well, of course she does, she's Rachel. That made whatever it was something Chloe wanted to know by definition.

It took little time for her slightly insistent and slightly worried look to prompt her to vocalize it.

"I was thinking I could apply for a dorm at Blackwell."

Chloe blinked in surprise – that was pretty out of nowhere, both unexpected and not really as worrying as it could have been.

"You can do that?"

Another shrug.

"Maybe. Probably too late this year and who knows if I even can, given that I live in Arcadia."

She didn't sound super excited, which … was probably because she seemed to think of this as some kind of last resort thing.

"… But I'm in the new program, so I should be eligible. Theoretically."

"Huh."

Chloe obviously needed a moment to process the idea, and did so with a very small thoughtful frown, which Rachel kind of mirrored on her side.

The immediate thought was the unpleasant separation of Rachel from her parents, which was something Chloe was trying to avoid since day 1. But on the other hand, they'd still be in the same town and seeing each other.

So that's not really a problem.

So besides that – what is? Pretty much everything else about it sounded very good. No parents to worry about. Complete independence. Practically a second junkyard to escape to, even if it's in the middle of a school. It would be their own space where they could do whatever they want.

They. Together.

"… Huh."

It attracted Rachel's questioning gaze, but Chloe kind of kept looking away in her thought.

All of this is assuming Rachel won't have any issues with the obviously inevitable consequence of Chloe practically living with her. Though why would she? She was probably thinking exactly the same. Chloe actually properly moving in with her, for real. It's basically the plan for LA, but why not start sooner, right?

Just thinking about it lightened Chloe's expression a ton, and her mind was kind of racing a bit – for a couple more seconds, anyway.

 _"_ _Huh?"_

Rachel apparently noticed the changes on Chloe's face, returning a playful smile herself.

And while the depth of thought was evident, Chloe's eyes still went up to her immediately, with an automatic smirking tease.

"Do you get to bring a plus one?"

Rachel of course returned the notion.

"Only if they don't know about it."

But the playfulness didn't really last.

"But don't get your hopes up or anything. It's just a thought."

Which was somewhat of a buzzkill. Chloe let out a small sigh, diverting her eyes for once herself.

"Right…"

Though it was kind of too late to stop the train. Chloe was already buying into the idea pretty strongly, and it was hard to find a reason not to. Apart from Rachel's indecisiveness towards this, maybe, and her view of this as some kind of regrettable necessity rather than the clearly awesome thing it was.

But even Rachel sometimes needed a kick in the butt.

So.

"… Maybe it should be more than just a thought?"

Rachel's eyes curiously looked up at Chloe, requesting an elaboration. So Chloe did.

"Imagine – me and you. Our own room. We can do anything we want, _whenever_ we want for as long as we want. No one can tell us to do shit. How awesome would that be?"

Rachel huffed a small endeared smile.

"Yes, the thought had crossed my mind."

" _So._ "

Rachel kind of widened her eyes and opened her fists for a brief moment in response, as if asking the same, and Chloe repeated the notion with a similar gesture.

"Why not?"

Rachel's smile went into her pursed lips as her eyes made kind of an arc away from Chloe – not rolling, just it seemed like she didn't have a super clear answer, as demonstrated by her tiny shrug and her barely a sigh.

Chloe was a little insistent.

"We're stuck here for two more years. Bullshit aside - how would you rather spend them?"

It was pretty clear that the answer was exactly what Chloe was betting on, because there can't possibly be any other, and that was obvious.

Not much to think about there.

"With you, of course."

They both smiled. But Rachel evened it out in a moment.

"I just didn't want you to get too excited - I still don't know how possible it is."

Chloe smirked a little.

"Like that ever stopped you."

Another tiny shrug.

"One day it might."

"I don't believe it."

Chloe truly didn't. If for her the question was always what she _can_ do, for Rachel it's always a question of what she _wants_. Because no matter what it is, she can achieve it.

… Unlike Chloe, which is a small thought sometimes bothers. Rachel deserves … a lot. A lot more, perhaps.

But she also deserves what she wants, and Chloe's eyes were quick to land on that, and smile.

 _Wish you were here._

It's hard to doubt these words, and many others Rachel said before.

Chloe tapped on them with her fingers, her eyes going back up somewhat mischievously.

"So… does this mean I'm driving over?"

Rachel's gaze briefly went to the writing and back up, looking somewhat sorry and humming sympathetically.

"I wish. But no. I gotta see this through to the end."

Chloe couldn't help but sigh. A little forcefully and maybe with a hint of frustration.

"Can't it really just be for a day? Or like – a little bit?"

Rachel repeated the sigh herself.

"We're going hiking soon. You won't catch me even if you leave right now. And, we've been over this."

Chloe rolled her eyes to the latter, which was a little unfair, but that's just how she felt.

It made Rachel a little insistent in repeating herself.

"It would be shitty, Chloe."

Which was a pretty direct take, this time, and it took more of Chloe's attention than usual. So much so that she didn't stop her from elaborating.

But it came with some major repositioning – Rachel pushed herself up to sit in front of the laptop, bending her leg in front of herself and laying it horizontally, while the other was laid straight and over its ankle, past the laptop and its sight.

"It wouldn't be a genuine shot at bonding back anymore if I start hooking up with you and making plans with you right in the middle of it."

She adjusted the camera to point higher, slumping a bit and looking down to the screen now, and spoke as she gathered up her hair onto one side, idly finger combing it a little bit.

"Right?"

Chloe couldn't help but appreciate finally being able to see the rest of her body, even if from below. Unsurprisingly, her eyes were mostly on it and the curves underneath her loose nightshirt, just a tiny bit distracted, but otherwise paying attention to the words.

She crossed her arms to them, because even if it worked for justifying a no-girlfriend parents time before, Rachel was kind of contradicting herself today.

"You just said that bonding back is impossible."

Rachel kept her eyes mostly on the screen, simply explaining further.

"Yes. But if my parents won't get their perfect attempt, then they'll keep thinking that they need one, so I'd be back to seeing them waste their strength and hoping for what they can't get."

And it's not that Rachel made no sense, it's just that Chloe wasn't buying all of it.

"Or they'll just give up after they see that you're not interested."

Rachel gazed squarely at her, tilting her head a bit and stopping her combing.

"Did your mom and David ever give up?"

Chloe blinked and hesitated.

"No."

The answer was obvious, even if it made her frown a bit.

She paused while Rachel just kept looking with the same expectant look.

"I … guess I could see the logic."

Begrudging, slow, but understanding. She didn't like it and there was still stuff to disagree with, but there was probably no point, because Rachel probably spent enough time arguing with herself from Chloe's position already, because it's not like she didn't want to see her. So if she couldn't justify a way herself, then Chloe probably won't be able to either.

She uncrossed her arms and let out a weary sigh.

Rachel gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I know. Just 6 more days. Less than a week now."

Though that was not much of a consolation to the renewed frown.

"And then you're going straight to school."

"You would be too if you didn't drop out."

Delivered cheekily, of course.

So much that Chloe groaned with an eyeroll and everything.

"Don't even remind me."

Rachel giggled.

As annoying as it was to be continuously teased in this particular way, Chloe found it continuously amusing too, especially since Rachel just magically knew exactly when to do it so that it would land in all the right ways.

She would still never admit to liking it. But Rachel probably knew that anyway. Or else she wouldn't use it to push out the negativity of previous thought from Chloe's mind in such a successful manner.

Chloe's expression slowly reverted back to factory settings, which included having a light smile at the sight of her girlfriend, who waited just enough for her to form it. And by then Chloe had another idea, though it came out with just a tiny bit of unintended sarcasm beside the inherent playfulness.

"Can I at least send you back something that smells like me?"

Rachel huffed a soft smirk regardless.

"I've got a full baggie of that. But thanks."

Chloe couldn't help but crack up into some laughter.

She didn't even _mean_ weed, but _of course_ Rachel would immediately think about it like that, and _of course_ imply that it's her smell.

And _of course_ it wouldn't even be inaccurate, but that's besides the point. And – hold on.

"Wait. You brought _weed_ to your richville family vacation?"

Rachel shrugged innocently.

"You're a bad influence."

Chloe only smirked with pride.

"It sounds like I'm _the_ _best_ influence."

She really savored that for a second too before teasing back.

"Though if _I_ had a vacation with your parents, I'd need a whole crate of weed instead just a baggie."

"Well then I'm _glad_ you aren't here."

Provocative gaze and everything.

Chloe totally brought it upon herself but her eyebrows went up anyway, even though she was still grinning.

" _Wow_."

Too far?

Apparently not far enough, because Chloe's reaction got Rachel pretty smug - she arrogantly huffed in response.

"Talk shit, get hit."

Which maybe would've raised Chloe's eyebrows even further if the humor of the situation wasn't taking over and she wasn't giggling.

"You know, you're a really abusive girlfriend."

She definitely played as such – commanding and confident, apparently deciding to just roll with it.

"That's right."

In more than just the playful way - she leaned into the camera a bit to deliver the next line more seductively.

"And you've denied me enough."

Her already suggestive grin got even more impish.

"I have to revoke your permission to wear my clothes."

Chloe scoffed to grin even more, to the point where her lips were almost hurting.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, _really_." Rachel insisted.

She pulled back a bit and straightened herself, just to put more distance between her and the camera to look down on her more.

"In fact, I require you to take them off _immediately_."

Chloe blushed a little, but automatically played along, faking her voice to uncharacteristically girly – a damsel in distress, hand on her chest in giggly shock.

"But I have nothing underneath!"

Rachel's grin was way too amused.

 _"_ _I know."_


	3. Of Drugs and Dogs

_BAM-BAM-BAM._

Who the fuck? This early.

Frank had barely even started his morning coffee. Even Pompidou was still asleep – someone had to be really arrogant to come and bother him at this time, and expect him not to be angry about it.

Big mistake.

He groaned himself out of his computer chair and pulled down a blind to peek at whoever was at the door.

Huh.

Rachel.

Not as annoying as some twitchy druggie coming at the asscrack of dawn to beg for just one more fix only to get sent straight to hell.

Still more annoying than no one at all.

Kind of a weird visitor to have at this time, and Frank definitely didn't like weird.

But, admittedly, she's also one of the few people who'd never done anything to deserve getting immediately yelled at to fuck off - not for just bothering him so early, anyway.

So he didn't hurry to meet her, but he did put down his coffee and begrudgingly unlocked the door, slowly pushing it open outwards to let in a rush of cold air.

"Hey." came very neutrally from her as Frank idly eyed her, rubbing at the stain on his shirt and taking a step down the little entrance stairs.

She looked … well, exactly like someone who's out to meet a drug dealer. Black leather motorbike jacket, zipped up, hooded with a soft grey hood. Hair tucked underneath, hidden away from sight. Dark jeans. Hands in her pockets. Low profile.

But missing something important.

Without replying to her greeting, Frank peeked out of the truck to quickly scan around his beach spot – left and right, spotting nothing, before his eyes went to her.

"No sidekick?"

Rachel shook her head a bit too sharply.

"Not today."

Her voice was just slightly spiky, as if hurried.

"Can we talk inside? It's hella freezing out here."

The request, by its nature, prompted Frank to eye her once again with the same suspicion, but really she wasn't hard to believe from just a simple glance.

The girl was all huddled up, shivering a little here and there, shifting weight all the time, as if impatient to get warm - not high. Her breaths came out as thick puffs of fog in the cold of the morning, and it sure as hell was _cold_ – Oregon cold, muggy and wet, especially here, by the ocean. It had rained not too long ago and it was still drizzling, and her hood looked damp, as did the rest of her clothes.

Did she _walk_ all the way out here? Definitely seemed like it.

The low profile was probably the result of her trying to stay warm.

Frank grunted.

He didn't like it, but he couldn't justify making her stand out here and freeze.

"Don't wake the dog."

Rachel let out an audible sigh of relief as he left the door open for her, going back to grab his coffee.

"Thank you."

She was too eager to jump in and close the door, and start desperately breathing warmth into her fingerlessly gloved hands.

Frank eyed her once more. It's quite the journey from Blackwell to here at this time … what day of the week was it? She might actually have classes later or whatever. That might explain the timing, but not really the lack of Chloe.

Which felt particularly unusual, given how inseparable they seemed to be. But -

Frank grunted again. There's really just one reason why people come down to him these days, alone or not.

He gestured dismissively towards the front seats for Rachel to sit somewhere, and headed further inside the RV, sipping his coffee and leaving the mug on some cupboard on the way.

Allowing her inside was not particularly special, even if Frank was a bit suspicious. She's been here before a couple of times, usually with or thanks to Chloe. And besides that, Frank was reasonably certain that she's not the person to be stupid enough to take advantage of him turning his back to her.

She'd learned her lessons long ago.

It's just hard not to be at least a little paranoid, given his line of work.

He spoke as he fished up his weed stash from behind some wood backpanel in his messy bedroom.

"Just so we're clear – "

He made a point with a pause.

"- I'm not letting you spot for Chloe, if that's what you're here for. Unless we're going to do business, you can go back to freezing your ass off outside."

He could have been less rude, on a second thought, but whatever. He still expected some kind of assurance from Rachel, but surprisingly, none came. Instead, Frank returned to the front of the RV to a sight he wasn't sure how to feel about.

Rachel was slouched from the side seat, her hands buried in the fur of Pompidou's neck, vigorously scratching and rubbing the happy dog. Her eyes went up to Frank, and just for a moment it seemed like she tried to hold back a smile, but then completely failed at it.

"He was already awake."

"Hmph."

Despite the grunt, Frank found himself … holding back something himself. Endearment? It's not often that someone would interact with his dog without fear or unease, and share affection with him so effortlessly.

He certainly didn't keep Pompidou for snuggling with randoms – a little growl here, sometimes his mere presence there, and you've got a baseline of respect and fear – of both of them.

Rachel, on the opposite, looked quite fond of him, letting out a little giggle when Pompidou licked her hand, or playfully tilting her head, and watching Pompidou mimic the gesture with a happy smile.

Thinking back, Pompidou too was usually pretty happy whenever her and Chloe were around. So that fondness must've gone both ways - which is good, because there's no way Frank provided enough love to the mutt, and he knew it.

So it's good that Pompidou could draw from a few others, sometimes. And if one of those people was Rachel, Frank found himself not really minding that.

As long as Pompidou doesn't.

"You're lucky he likes you."

Rachel gave Frank a smile and a nod, and Pompidou received another round of vigorous scratches, panting happily with his tongue out.

"Who's a _good_ boy?"

Frank wasn't in a hurry anyway. He picked up his coffee mug and sat down at his computer, carelessly leaving the weed bag on the table, just quietly watching them.

Rachel's eyes actually briefly went up to the bag, and there was this little frown on her face that Frank couldn't quite parse, but it was gone momentarily as the dog consumed her attention again.

But briefly, as well. She gave him a couple more pats and then took in a weary breath, and straightened herself on her seat, as if about to have some kind of weighty conversation.

But Pompidou apparently had other plans - he took it as an invitation to literally hop onto her knees, which made her eek a little in surprise.

"No – what are you -?"

Ignoring her, he made himself comfortable on her lap, laying down over her thighs and snuggling up to her stomach, and Rachel couldn't help but smile again and giggle more at all the closeness and affection, glancing at Frank like – look at this dog - and even Frank managed to slightly smile.

She let out a more relaxed appreciative sigh, a moment after Pompidou settled down and Rachel took everything in.

"Wow, you're so warm."

Her hands wrapped around the dog as she leaned over and hugged him from above, squeezing a little with a wide smile, soaking up even more of his warmth with her chest for few more enjoyable looking seconds.

Something about the sight appealed to Frank so much that he just kept smiling.

Eventually, Rachel slowly pulled back with a long relieved sigh, gently running her hands over Pompidou's fur and just stroking him, visibly more relaxed and at ease.

"This is exactly what I needed. It's like he knew it somehow."

Pompidou looked so content on her lap too.

Frank let out a rough approving hum.

"Dogs can sense that kind of stuff about you."

There's a reason why they're the best friends of humans.

"… Or that you're cold, if that's what you're talking about."

Rachel finally pulled off her hood, fixing her long hair and tucking some behind her ear.

"I guess a bit of both."

Her hands immediately came back to the dog.

And for a little while, Rachel just enjoyed stroking Pompidou and said nothing more as she seemed to be warming up.

It was a peaceful morning. The background sound of the waves crashing on the beach was everpresent, and while you couldn't see much out the windows because of the morning fog, the grayness that surrounded the trailer made its dimly lit wooden interior feel especially cozy.

Frank really liked those moments. Chill and calm, warm, and smelling like fresh coffee. The trailer was never luxurious, but it could feel like home and something that he owns, and it was somewhere he could feel safe, even in front of an odd visitor.

He idly sipped on his coffee while Rachel warmed up, and eventually running out, sighed.

"… I guess he would have sensed something by now if you were here to ruin my day. I'll just chalk up the timing to your busy schedule."

Rachel made a small amused sound, but didn't seem to want to correct his conclusion.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Classes 'n all."

Frank nodded a bit.

"I figured."

He hinted at the bag of weed, placing his empty mug on the desk.

"So how much?"

Rachel's eyes briefly followed his.

"Oh."

There was no frown this time, but there was some visible hesitation, which still didn't make too much sense.

"I'm … actually not here for that."

Frank raised an eyebrow.

"No?"

Chloe could randomly appear to 'hang out', even if that often turned out to be a ploy to get weed, but that was not something Rachel was known to do.

Maybe she just wanted to try something else, since after all Frank wasn't just a pot dealer.

Yet, Rachel slowly shook her head.

"No."

While she was more or less relaxed with Pompidou on her lap, it seemed like there was also some sort of tenseness about her. The way she kind of gripped the fur instead of continuing to stroke when Frank asked. It was like she was nervous, which … is actually not a Rachel Frank had ever seen.

Still, she let go and made a little sigh.

"I… have a business proposition."

Frank's other eyebrow went up in surprise, but only to form a frown.

"… Hmph."

This was a gear change. And this kind of talk rarely bode well, especially coming from someone so … far away from what Frank does. Whether Pompidou sensed anything or not, Frank's gut was very reluctant to trust it.

"What makes you think I'm interested?"

And what could she possibly even offer to Frank of all people?

It seemed that Rachel expected a question like this. She glanced down to Pompidou, and shrugged a bit.

"I mean… you've got to feed the dog, right?"

Her eyes came back up, and Frank met them sternly, unimpressed by the non-answer.

"So?"

He crossed his arms.

"Does he look hungry to you?"

Rachel glanced to Pompidou, as if to make sure that the dog was well fed – not that it was any of her concern.

"… No. But can you hear me out anyway?"

Frank noticed the change in her voice. Her friendly kind of casual tone replaced by something more respectful and diplomatic. Serious.

"No harm in that."

"Hmph."

He wasn't sure if her ability to take this seriously was a good thing or not. For business, definitely. But if she was serious about anything more than buying weed or E like usual, she could get herself in trouble.

And one would think that Rachel of all people would know better.

She also didn't answer his question, which was a red flag to keep in mind.

But… not enough to shut her down right away. Whatever it is, it would be easier to get out of her head once Frank knows the details.

"Fine."

He gestured formally with his hand.

"Go ahead."

He re-crossed his arms, judging with his stare.

Rachel readjusted in her seat, straightening up a bit and holding Pompidou on her lap carefully.

"Okay. So. I'll – take a wild guess and assume that your supply is not an issue."

She paused, her eyes questioning Frank for confirmation or denial, but Frank simply remained emotionless until Rachel had nothing left but to continue.

"… Doesn't seem like it to me. So the hard part is probably finding the clients to sell it to."

She sounded quite confident in that, which probably just meant that she ran through this conversation in her head an amount of times, which Frank kept in mind.

"The only way to know about you is hearsay and interpersonal connections, and even then not everyone _by_ _far_ is brave enough to take the risk and meet you."

Frank's still stoic expression didn't seem to put Rachel off either, somehow, even though she seemed like she expected Frank to participate. He couldn't say the confidence was dislikable.

It didn't seem like arrogance yet too, or at least not in its usual obvious form.

"Since this is a small town, you've probably got a handful of regulars, but no reliable way to find new clients."

She wasn't even inherently wrong so far, and her perception was both a little impressive and a little worrying.

"So that's what I could help you with. I have a lot of friends at Blackwell. I'm –"

She shrugged a little.

"- friends with the whole school, really."

Her face matched the stoicism of Frank's.

"I'm very closely connected to your most profitable demographic. I can gauge people's interest, and –"

The briefest of smiles -

"I'm a party girl. I know who and when needs supplies for special occasions. People often choose not to get any at all, because they can't get them from someone they already know and aren't scared of."

Rachel tucked some hair behind her ear again, her smile fading behind seriousness.

"Because there's no one like that. But I attend like, everything. Which is much better for them than having to walk out here and risk –"

She glanced down at Pompidou and scratched him idly.

"- getting bitten -"

Her eyes then turned to Frank, quite seriously.

"Or stabbed."

Rachel paused, holding the look for that to sink in, until it did.

"Most people know I'm trustworthy. So I'm offering a partnership."

Pause.

… This was a lot.

"Hmph."

Rachel wasn't wrong about … almost everything. Her perception was surprisingly accurate, and she presented her arguments in a surprisingly convincing manner, which in itself was a reason for Frank to be extra cautious, because nothing in this business comes without pitfalls.

But that doesn't even matter. Rachel came to him as some kind of determined businesswoman with a naively straightforward proposition, obviously not knowing what she was actually getting herself into.

That is an easy no. Plus, it's not like she was offering something unique.

"Good speech. Points for effort. Almost makes me feel bad for sending you off."

Rachel blinked, befuddled.

"What?"

Frank briefly rolled his eyes.

"I don't need more access to Blackwell. I've got plenty and it keeps my bills paid."

Rachel blinked again, twice.

"Well…"

She shrugged, as if a little lost.

"Haven't you ever wanted more? Life isn't just about paying bills."

That sounded like some kind of textbook grade trick. Unconvincing.

Frank dismissively shook his head.

Wherever this idea came from, it was time for Rachel to deflate and understand that it's not happening.

Yet – she didn't. Instead, her seriousness persisted.

"… And I know for fact that you don't have that much access."

Huh? Frank raised an eyebrow, and then gave her a scoff.

Yet again, Rachel's seriousness persisted through his dismissiveness, and through the little smile that formed on her face for just the briefest of moments.

"Like – I know a couple of people who would connect me to you. But you don't have anyone out there _actively_ searching for people to send your way, _or_ to sell your product. Drew's long gone. If anyone replaced him, I'd know."

Frank scoffed again, adding a bit of sarcasm to his words,

" _How_ , I wonder?"

Rachel made this almost mysterious looking smile, letting the seriousness go.

"Like I said, I'm friends with the whole school. Nothing happens without me knowing."

Frank hummed roughly in displeasure, causing that smile to fade.

This was another thing she wasn't wrong about. After Drew graduated and with Damon out of the picture, Frank couldn't exactly bring himself to set up another relationship like that. Mainly, because it involved violence, and that is something he tried to steer away from, as much as that was possible.

The benefits of a non-violent business relationship were pretty obvious, especially after what happened. And having someone to actively look for clients and not just be passive like Frank was could be quite profitable.

He didn't like admitting to himself this, but yeah. Not a completely bad idea.

Sigh.

If only it came from anyone but Rachel. From someone experienced. Intimidating. From someone more fit for this stuff.

"Drew was a mountain of muscles. You're just a tiny girl. How do you think you're going to handle your 'new clients'? Especially if they are not supposed to be afraid."

"Well…"

Rachel shrugged, briefly looking off to the side.

"That's what I'll have you for?"

She raised her eyebrows questioningly, and made eye contact, like she was fully serious about this too.

"If anything happens…"

She emphasized that with a little vague circular hand gesture, because they both knew what it meant.

Or, Frank did and it was ridiculous to think that Rachel would.

He scoffed loudly and shook his head.

"What, you think I'm going to rush in and save your life again?"

He uncrossed his arms and pointed his finger at his chest, giving her a questioning stare.

"Do I look like your personal bodyguard?"

Interestingly, Rachel still wasn't put off by Frank's hostility. Frank overplayed it just a little bit, yeah, but it was hard to tell whether she saw through it, or was trying to push at her own expense, as if she was stupid or desperate. Neither of those described Rachel though, as far as Frank knew.

She frowned, her voice becoming stronger and sharper, more determined.

"You're not. This would be a _partnership_. You supply me, and I expand your clientele. If someone threatens my business, they would be threatening yours, and we would deal with that the way you usually do."

The way he usually does?

The confidence was genuinely appealing, but at the same time amusing, because there's no way she really had an idea of what she was talking about.

Frank crossed his arms again.

"And what do you think that means, exactly?"

He scoffed.

"Don't answer. I know you've got no idea."

This, for some reason, landed in a different way than the rest – instead of pushing more and expressing more confidence, Rachel hesitated for a moment.

"I mean … I've got an _idea_ , but not much else – you're right."

Her frown was gone, her voice and posture changed accordingly – she straightened herself some more, her eyes open wide and looking attentively. Like an interested student.

"I'm not insisting on doing things my way. You're obviously far more knowledgeable than me. I'd more than value your input."

She sounded genuine about it too, which Frank's people compass recognized as an indication – Rachel stopped pushing right before her confidence turned to arrogance, implying that she knows her borderline – implying that she knows she's out of her depth.

To some extent, at least.

That's… a really valuable trait for a business partner to have.

Not that Frank was really considering her, still, because she _was_ out of her depth, though that was starting to feel more regrettable due to her other apparent qualities, and to the fact that he could indeed use someone to specifically work in Blackwell – there's money to be made there.

Just not with this much risk.

He sighed.

"You're in over your head, girl. That's my input."

Rachel frowned,

"I meant business related input."

She crossed her arms.

"Not patronizing."

That… was a surprise attack. Sharply delivered, too.

If there was anything consistent about Rachel at this point, it was that she was really hard to figure out.

And Frank didn't really know how to handle yet another gear change other than with more patronizing. So – he had a lot to say there.

"You're a _kid_ –"

He frowned himself, and Rachel returned the unsatisfied gaze.

"And you just walked into the den of a _drug_ _dealer_ in hopes of, what – "

He parted his arms to emphasize the question.

" - becoming one yourself?"

Frank scoffed and shook his head dismissively, re-crossing his arms.

"I'm not here to patronize you. But the last time a woman came to me with a similar offer, it didn't end well for her. So I'm _telling_ you: forget this, and go back to studying and being the perfect DA's daughter."

He scoffed again, to himself this time.

"Which by the way is one hell of a reason for us to stay away from each other. You've got too much in your life to throw away, and I've got too much to lose."

Rachel's frown only seemed to deepen as he talked, and arms tensed up on her chest.

"What I 'throw away' is not for you to decide. You already risk losing everything by doing what you do every day. I'm hardly the most dangerous person you're meeting."

It didn't matter how true that was.

"So do you want to make a fuckload of money or not?"

Frank shook his head dismissively, looking off to the door, annoyed. She wasn't getting it and kept insisting, so it was probably finally time to just stonewall for good and send her on her way.

But, there's the obvious problem – Rachel is insistent and determined, and if Frank learned anything about her type, she could easily get herself in trouble elsewhere, with someone far less mindful of her future.

And yes, that won't be Frank's problem anymore. It shouldn't be. But… fuck.

Frank grunted in frustration.

Things still didn't add up with Rachel. It seemingly made no sense for her to even consider this, let alone come here with a serious offer. Unless… she was playing games, which, as unlikely as that felt, seemed reasonably likely if Frank used his brain instead of his gut.

What she was getting out of this was still unclear, so maybe it was time for some answers.

"You know what?"

He looked her straight in the eyes.

"I'm more concerned with what you're trying to pull. You're rich. You don't need the money or the risk. So why the hell are you really here?"

Rachel seemed to hold onto her dissatisfaction for some moments, as it took a few seconds for her expression to placate.

"That's ... fair of you to assume."

She wasn't sarcastic, surprisingly. Neutral again if anything. It took another moment or two for her to elaborate.

"Money would just be a bonus to me."

Frank narrowed his eyes a little, because it seemed like she didn't run through this conversation before – she had to choose her words carefully, and she seemed like she was thinking through them.

Rachel uncrossed her arms.

"I'm gonna sound cliché but what I really want is to – well, _own_ Blackwell."

She clenched a fist in the air almost dramatically.

"To be on top of the food chain. So that people would think twice before fucking with me or my girlfriend, or anyone I consider my friend – "

She shook that fist a little, as if threateningly.

" - because they'll know I'm connected. And they would stand to lose my favor, like - "

Rachel made a little half-smiling huff, her voice just a tad impish.

" - hooking people up is a favor in itself, especially if _I_ set the terms. People will owe me in return, and I could use that for getting what I want. Like power. Or revenge."

Rachel pursed her lips, making a little innocent shrug.

"It's an ace up my sleeve that nobody else in the school has."

Gear change. Frank blinked a few times.

"So – let me get this straight. You want to run drugs so you could be a drama queen at school."

He said it as matter-of-factly as he could.

Rachel shrugged again,

"Pretty much."

She placed her hands back on Pompidou, giving him a gentle stroke as the dog already questioningly looked up at her.

Frank blinked once more before bringing up his fingers to his temples, arching his head up a bit and rubbing at them.

… Yeah.

Fucking. Hell.

This was literally the textbook privileged thinking of a typical Blackwell brat.

Yeah, sure. Just go ahead and ruin fucking lives to play your stupid games at school. You wouldn't have to care – you're rich, your mommy and daddy are going to take care of everything, and you wouldn't have to face any consequences of your actions. Your lessers will. Or better yet, you're going to get hurt yourself all because you wanted pointless petty revenge, and your non-friends to lick your ass even more than they already do.

When somebody inevitably gets hurt, people will be out for blood – Frank's blood.

It's so naïve, so stupid and so irresponsible.

Insensitive, even.

It's almost fucking insulting that someone would offer this to him. People don't choose this life. You don't get to just dip in and out to look cool to your friends. There's nothing cool about this. This is serious fucking shit.

Rachel of all people should understand that, given how her story could've ended, or her mother's.

…

Unless.

Frank took his hand off his face and opened his eyes to look at Rachel with a frown.

There's no way she doesn't understand – not after what happened.

Or at least Frank was pretty sure – maybe he was being naïve or thinking wishfully. But it felt wrong to take this at face value. His opinion of Rachel was really different from the impressions from her story, which means that either he was fundamentally wrong, which he almost never was because he knows people, or that she's lying.

It shouldn't be hard to figure out which is really the case. Frank's method was blunt and to the point.

"You're lying to me."

Rachel blinked, looking puzzled.

"I'm not."

Pompidou perked up to look at her proper, stealing a glance from her eyes, and from Frank's as well – maybe he sensed something, or maybe he just wanted her to keep stroking, because the accusation made her stop.

She doubled down. That was expected, more or less, but something was still off to Frank, much like the story she just told.

It was starting to ring small alarms in his gut. Maybe they were nothing, but he didn't stand to lose anything by doubling down himself either – pushing, not even sure if bluffing, but sensing like he was onto something here.

" _Yes_ you are."

When Frank doubled down, he doubled down hard. There was no space for games in this trailer. He stood up in full height, menacingly taking a step closer to her.

"How stupid do you think I am? I deal with bullshit on a daily basis. I know what lying looks like."

Rachel frowned back, pushing herself up from the seat and forcing Pompidou to hop off of her lap.

"So what? Why do you even give a shit about my reasons?"

Rachel crossed her arms, taking a smaller step towards Frank as well, with Pompidou kind of snuggling to her ankle.

"I'm giving you a serious opportunity to make some serious cash. That's what you should be concerned with. Not me. "

Rachel didn't seem to realize just how seriously alarming dodging his answers was. It was practically admission of guilt, which really really didn't bode well for her.

Frank's frown deepened, and he took a step to her and to the door, towering beside the exit, effectively blocking it.

"No. What I should be concerned about is when people try to be shifty around me. And you're being very shifty right now, so I am _very_ concerned."

He briefly leaned towards the door and locked it with a quick but meaningful turn of the knob, giving Rachel an intimidating look, his voice turning gravely deep.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. What. Is going. On."

It seemed that Rachel finally got the message – her eyes subtly danced from the lock to Frank, and flashed momentarily in realization - she gulped slightly, otherwise hiding whatever emotions this prompted.

"Fine. I'll tell you."

Not as confident now, even though she visibly tried to keep herself together, even putting on this fake dismissiveness like everything was fine.

"Jesus. What side of the bed did you get up on?"

A step back, and she plopped back down, forcing out a bit of a sigh with her fingers sneaking up to her jacket's pocket.

"Can I smoke?"

Apparently not even Pompidou entwining himself with her ankles was enough relief this time.

Frank found no reason to deny her, simply giving a dismissive hand gesture. It… never felt bad to call bullshit out, but he still found Rachel somehow not deserving the scare.

Yet, it was too late now, so he simply stood and stared at her sternly with his crossed arms.

Rachel pulled out a cig and didn't hesitate to light it, slouching down and taking a puff, and then another, and another – slowly, with some time inbetween. She seemed to need a bit of time to recollect herself, or simply think through whatever she had to say.

For that duration, the only sounds in the RV were that of her cigarette's burning cinders and the tapping of the raindrops on the windshield, with the ocean's waves somewhere in the distance, not quite as calming as before.

Frank, at least, wasn't in a hurry. He took a seat across from her, in the driver's seat, slouching a bit with an arm over the steering wheel.

Looking at the blurry ridges, his face essentially stuck in the same concerned expression.

Pompidou seemed okay with this arrangement, resting at Rachel's feet. Maybe he just found the rain calming.

Frank did too, a little bit.

Just what the hell was this all about?

Maybe Pompidou's inner detector just didn't work on some people. Maybe Frank's didn't too. It was hard to imagine Rachel as some conniving backstabber. It was hard to imagine what she would even be getting out of messing with Frank. Or that she would mess with Frank in the first place.

There still wasn't even anything bad that Frank could say about her, as a person – she was nothing but friendly to him over the years, and this little lie was something he could let slide. Because surely she's got a good reason to keep secrets.

A really weird reason that forced her to resort to this.

Frank still didn't like weird.

"It's money. I need it. A lot."

Rachel eventually spoke up, interrupting Frank's thoughts.

Her eyes were already on him when he met them.

Frank's brow almost rose in surprise, but he forced his face to remain stern.

"Why?"

Rachel leaned a bit back in the seat, taking another puff.

"To stay afloat when the storm hits. And to get out of this fucking place. With Chloe."

At least she didn't sound like she was lying. Or at least not in the same way as before – it was hard to tell whether she was being genuine, but Frank was pretty sure she was.

Still though, not genuine enough.

"Hmph. The storm?"

Rachel gave him an unhappy glance and forced a sigh.

"My dad is losing his job."

Her tone was sharp, like she was understandably angry about the fact. Though Frank picked up some mixed emotions, like the anger wasn't just directed at one thing.

Her eyes went off to the outside, thoughtful and kind of hesitant.

"… It's because of the whole story with Sera. Somebody dug deep enough and found out."

She took another puff.

"It's not public yet, or I don't know if it's going to be. He probably had it coming anyway."

Frank let out a rough hum. This was starting to make sense now.

"So you think you've got nothing to lose?"

But Rachel shook her head.

"No. But it's hitting all of us. Hard. Including financially."

She briefly looked towards the dashboard, on which there was a convenient ashtray. The cig went there.

"My parents are going to have to move upstate, but I want to – _need_ to stay here until I'm done with Blackwell. And then take Chloe to LA."

This sounded more like the truth.

"So that's what you need money for."

Rachel nodded, their eyes meeting again.

"Yes. I promised to never leave her behind, but I might not even climb out of Arcadia myself."

She locked her eyes with Frank's meaningfully.

"I need this."

Frank looked down, briefly shaking his head. Another gear change of this morning. This time something he couldn't not be sympathetic to.

"You should have just told me from the beginning."

Rachel looked off to the side. Her slightly sharp tone still gave out mixed impressions.

"I'm not exactly happy with letting everyone know. Even you."

Frank drew a long, weary sigh, his eyes traveling somewhere forward again.

She watched him, and there were these few seconds of silence when Rachel probably just didn't understand this reaction and Frank was just too weary about it to put it into words on hand.

This changed things a lot more than she probably thought.

"… The most important thing I've learned about this business is that you're dealing with _people_."

Another pause as Rachel's brows furrowed thoughtfully, and she looked somewhere down.

"Oh."

Her face went through a few expressions of uncertainty and then a realization. There was a meaning there, and maybe she connected it in the right ways - that yeah, Frank was rude to friends and customers, but he wasn't known to be heartless, so perhaps he wouldn't be heartless in Rachel's case too.

Her eyes came back up to him with a small but serious nod.

"I'll … definitely keep that in mind."

That's pretty much what Frank tried to express through his words, anyway, even if the practicality proved difficult. She was still a kid, and she was still out of her depth, and she of all people should just be kept as far away from this stuff as possible – too much life to lose, too much to risk.

But, she sounded like she really needed it. In a way that Frank could somewhat relate to. Everybody's got a vision of happiness that they're striving for. In the past, Frank did too. But sometimes, it takes more than just to follow it – sometimes, you need a helping hand.

A hand that Frank lacked.

Maybe he wouldn't have ended up stuck halfway if he had it – who knows?

Does she deserve a better shot of things?

She does. And so does everyone. And so does Chloe, because it's about Chloe, too. Her life was fucked, that was no secret. She deserved better than being stuck in Arcadia forever, and Rachel had the power to give her that.

And Frank, indirectly, had the power to help them.

He sighed again, long and weary.

He _was_ actually about to agree, and not for primarily for the money or himself. Somehow the fact annoyed him still, but he couldn't fight himself when it came to these things.

It was just who he was.

He wearily propped himself up by pushing against the steering wheel and leaning onto the arm.

"Do you realize that you can get seriously …"

Frank fell silent, seeing Rachel apprehensively put up stop signs with her palms.

"Wait."

Frank raised his eyebrow while Rachel matched his weariness with a serious and calm voice.

"Can we just, not go through this again?"

Frank was about to frown, but Rachel put her hands down on her lap.

"I don't mean to say I know better. But I've thought this over a million times already. I've made my decision."

She shook her head a bit.

"I don't need any more doubts."

Frank stared at her judgingly, but it was hard to find a reason not to trust her on this one. It takes some determination to actually follow through and come here, and deliver a whole spiel to him.

He gave her an understanding nod, though was unable to keep his voice from sounding somewhat gravely.

"… Fair enough."

Frank took in another breath, and decided to shift gears himself for once.

"Tell me more about your idea."

Rachel's eyes flashed for a moment, as if with liveliness or hope - confirming not just the change of gears, but that she was glad to hear this.

She straightened up, once again returning to her presentation mode.

"Well…"

Just took a moment for her to collect her thoughts.

"I don't know what quantities of what I'll need just yet. I have a rough idea but I'll need a week or so to get a better reading."

Frank nodded with understanding, which was seemingly encouraging to her.

"But its probably going to vary anyway. The Vortex people usually need expensive stuff around parties, but those only happen on occasion. There's a stoner clique that always needs supplies. I could maybe get a few jocks interested in oxy."

Small eyeroll.

"Assuming they aren't already on it."

Then Rachel shrugged.

"There's going to be random friends and random favors. I guess I would be meeting you to pick up whatever I happen to need and drop off the profits from previous deals."

She really did seem to have thought about this a lot.

If only every business partner Frank dealt with in the past thought things through in detail like this.

He hummed approvingly, not seeing much else to add just yet – just to ask.

"Speaking of which. Tell me how you're not going to screw me on the money."

Rachel blinked again, this time more lively than the last.

"Wait so – are we really doing this?"

A genuine question, but Frank could tell there was some excitement behind it.

He gave her a serious stare, for now.

Rachel pursed her lips, unable to hold a tiny smile for just a moment.

"Sorry."

It was just endearing to Frank. She shouldn't be excited about this, but … yeah. He could understand why she was.

She shouldn't rush into this, anyway.

" _Maybe_."

He made a pause to emphasize, gravely serious yet again.

"If you pass the trial."

Rachel didn't seem to take that grave seriousness as seriously though, or at least – not visibly.

"Trial?"

She made a little curious smirk.

"I didn't know you had to go through internship to become a drug dealer."

Admittedly, Frank had to huff in some amusement after all, otherwise trying not to steer them away from sobriety.

"The more you learn."

His business – his rules. He wasn't about to repeat his rookie mistakes, or let Rachel do the same.

"So – money?"

Rachel nodded a bit.

"Right. I'll - do whatever works for you, I guess."

Good. Frank nodded approvingly, though -

"- But I just figured – "

That prompted a small judging frown from Frank, which made her hesitate for a moment. Almost endearingly, like she was asking his permission to continue.

Frank appreciated the respect. Made it easy to return it.

He remained silent, giving her the chance to speak.

".. I figured you could set like, a minimum price for whatever I'll pick up each time? And then I'll try to sell it higher and won't sell for any lower. Whatever I earn I bring back to you, and we split it 60-40."

She gesticulated the 60 at Frank, and 40 at herself.

"I think that's fair enough."

"Hmph."

Kind of. This was mechanically a good idea, but it was his supply and his head on the line more than hers. At least, the way he saw it.

"75-25."

Rachel blinked, but it didn't take long for her to return Frank a small head shake.

"… No. 65-35."

That might be fair to her, but not quite fair to him. She would essentially be something of an understudy for a while, not quite a partner.

But she was being persistent, and that was good.

Frank rose up and crossed his arms.

"70-30."

Another small moment as Rachel considered, but then she suddenly frowned and repeated herself.

" **65** - **35**."

She looked – _super_ – serious with her delivery.

 _"_ _And_ you take a zero off of Chloe's tab."

Beat, while Rachel projected a sober stare.

She actually did not just double down, but demanded even more instead of leveling and finding yet another compromise, which is what Frank fully expected from her – not this at all.

And honestly – this was pretty impressive of her, because it changed Frank's perspective immediately.

This tiny girl had the strength of character to bargain in a situation where she had no cards to play. She had some ladyballs for sure, and her firmness only highlighted the sheer force of will that backed up her demand.

Much to Frank's entertainment, because the last thing he expected her to be was intimidating, so he didn't quite have the words.

Instead, he kicked back into a hearty laughter.

"You're something else."

Rachel, eventually, smiled a little too just at the end of his laugh, probably sensing a favorable outcome already.

"Okay."

He huffed amusedly.

She looked like someone worthy of a bigger cut now – someone to be respected more than just your regular kiddo.

"You know your worth. That's good."

Rachel gave him an approving hum and a slightly smug smile, satisfiedly crossing her arms.

This whole thing might just have a shot at working.

She could eventually make a good business partner. With some guidance.

"Well."

Frank planted his hands on his knees and pushed himself up to stand with a small grunt.

"There's a couple of things I'll need you to do…"

He headed further inside the RV and stopped at his computer desk, leaning down and reaching under it, into some large carton box.

He pulled out a smaller, white one with a picture of a phone, and tossed it to Rachel, and Rachel was just a little startled but caught it anyway.

"Burner phone. On the house. Keep it out of sight but close by. Anything related to this arrangement that requires a phone goes through it, and nothing else. Got it?"

Rachel inspected the box curiously and gave Frank a determined nod.

"Yeah."

Frank nodded back.

"Good. I'll also need you to keep a record of your sales."

He brought up his fist and extended a finger for each thing he listed, pointing at them.

" _Who_ buys _what_ , how _much_ , _for_ how much and _when_."

The fingers went back into loose fists.

"Don't use real names."

Rachel nodded again.

"I can manage that."

So that's that. She seemed attentive enough that Frank didn't feel the need to make her repeat it.

He turned around to glance over his RV, fingers grasping his chin, thinking.

"Let's see what I can get you for a test run…"

"Before we finalize this – "

Rachel put the phone box aside, onto the dashboard.

" – I've one condition."

That drew Frank's attention to turn around and raise an eyebrow.

"Hm?"

It was Rachel's turn to be gravely serious – an extra pause added weight to her words.

"Chloe … can't know."

Frank brought his hands to the sides of his waist.

"Hmph."

It's not an unreasonable request, but there was a meaning to extract from the fact that Rachel asked for it.

"I don't make a habit of babbling about my business to everybody."

Rachel still stared at him expectantly, which prompted Frank to sober up a little – she was serious about this, so he felt like he had to be too.

"… But since you've brought it up, I think you know what I'm gonna have to ask."

Rachel huffed through her nose, turning her eyes up and away.

"Yes."

To be fair – she should have seen this coming. There's no room for secrets in this trailer.

" _Why_."

Frank nodded.

"Yeah."

If Chloe could become a problem, it's best to know exactly how and why. Though it already didn't sound like a particularly good idea to try and keep this from her, considering that they were girlfriends. And that Chloe is a regular customer.

Rachel's eyes briefly went back to the ashtray in a bit of a pause, as if she was looking for another puff again, but her cigarette burned out a while ago. She simply sighed, slouching and looking down, to Pompidou, whose head she gave a few idle pats.

"She's not going to approve, for one."

That much was understandable. Frank didn't approve either, and yet here they were.

Rachel pulled away from Pompidou and kind of leaned back a bit on the seat.

"And for two, I don't want her anywhere near crime."

Frank scoffed slightly.

"Bit late for that."

Rachel frowned.

" _It's not_."

Frank frowned a bit too as Rachel let that hang, but then he shrugged – he wasn't the one to know better, for once. If anything, it's a nice thing to believe.

Rachel's face evened out in a bit.

"If she finds out I'm doing this, she's going to want to help, but – "

She sighed some tenseness out, looking down again.

" - she's a high school dropout, Frank."

Her eyes met his.

"There's not much else for her to do other than getting into shady business. _Especially_ so I don't have to. And I can't let that happen."

Frank made a rough acknowledging hum. That was a path he was familiar with a bit too personally.

Rachel slouched down, supporting her body with her elbows on her knees.

"I've been trying to kick her ass back to school, but you know how she is."

She parted her palms in an uncertain manner, and then crossed them below.

"Eventually, I'll make her get a GED. Probably in LA. But that will take a while either way. Until then, I need to make sure she doesn't lose her shot at things. Even though she thinks that she already had."

"Hmph."

Frank gave her a nod, and sort of kept that nodding motion going as his mind ran over the situation. It was a lot to be sympathetic to.

"Well. If Chloe ever finds out, it won't be from me. Just…"

He looked at her with some concern.

"It's a big secret to keep from someone you love. Keep that in mind."

Rachel returned a look he couldn't quite read. It was somewhat distant, and then she just looked away, off into the grey outside.

Like she felt guilty.

"Yeah … thanks."

Frank let his hands fall from his waist and kind of hesitated. This was a bit too bittersweet. Good to see someone caring about their loved one so much. Not quite good to be caught up in lies. That kind of stuff, it… rarely ends well.

But that of all things was definitely not his business.

So Frank turned around and sighed, looking around his messy RV once again. They still had business to do, and she probably had places to be, and personal shit is best to be left out from this anyway, if it doesn't threaten anything.

His eyes eventually fell on his desk, and the hefty weed package that he brought earlier.

He glanced at Rachel.

"You said there's a stoner clique?"

Rachel's eyes returned to him somewhat distantly, but that look was shortly gone.

"Yeah."

Frank took the bag and tossed it to Rachel too.

"Here."

It landed in her lap this time, without a catch, with her hands somewhat cautiously taking it.

"That should be about 300 bucks worth."

Rachel sighed and nodded, kind of starting at the bag for a little while.

"I know they're probably buying from me already. But see if you can cash that in 'till the end of the week. And I'll need your record book."

Frank approached her, taking a step towards the entrance on the way and unlocking the door before standing over her.

"Do not. Betray my trust."

Rachel looked up at him, unzipping her jacket and stuffing the package there. And the box.

"I won't."

She sighed and stood up, bouncing a little to let the items settle in before zipping up her jacket, and putting her hood back on.

She looked up to him again, meaningfully.

"Thank you."

Frank gave her an understanding nod and gestured towards the exit, through which she was gone in a moment.


End file.
